Black Suits
by Sexidebater
Summary: He didn't want the black suits anymore. Reminding him of his sins against the wizarding world. Reminding him constantly of his regrettable time under the rule of the Dark Lord. One-Shot. Art is not mine. If you own it and want if off just tell me.


A month in Askaban feels like a year.

At least that is what Draco Malfoy believes.

At last, he was back at his childhood home. The Malfoy Manor.

It was a confusing time after The Dark Lord's demise. The Auroras rounded up all the death eaters, suspected death eaters, and persons who may be under the imperius curse, they were all put into Askaban. There was no time to organize people, sort out fact from fiction, so rounding them up was easier.

Once everyone was sorted and the last of the death eaters were on the run, they started sorting through everyone. Surprisingly, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger came to Draco's hearing and spoke in defense of him and his mother. Having part of the golden trio speak in your defense really went over well with Wizengamot.

So he was let off. Along with his mother who had saved Potter's life.

But his mother wasn't coming back. Not to this home. Too many bad memories for her. She was staying with friends in France. Draco knew that she would never set another foot in this house for as long as she lived.

Potter and Granger hadn't testified for his father. He didn't blame them. Towards the end Lucius had become desperate to appease The Dark Lord. He even put his son on the chopping block, writing him off as already dead. He didn't care about Draco at the end.

Draco tried to understand, but he couldn't. His mother had lied to the Dark Lord's face to save him, yet his father would have thrown him off a cliff if it had meant that he was in the Dark Lord's good graces again.

It was better that Lucius was in Askaban. With him gone, Draco could rebuild the family name. Draco didn't want the family name to instill fear. He wanted respect for his name, not fear not joy, just respect.

He walked into the manor, where it was dark, dusty and cold. His mother had dismissed the house elves towards the end to save them from the Dark Lord's cruelty. So he would have to clean until he got another house elf.

" _Lumos_ ," he said softly. The dusty foyer lit up and Draco walked into the house. It felt like years since he had been back. A thin layer of dust covered everything.

Draco continued into the house and came across the chandelier. The Dark Lord forbade them from removing it, he wanted it to serve as a reminder to their failure. Underneath it was a dark brown stain. Hermione Granger's blood. Draco decided that he would deal with it later.

He really didn't need a physical reminder of that night. Hermione's screams sill stayed in his head, haunting his dreams in Askaban. He relieved seeing his aunt carve 'MUDBLOOD' into her arm almost every night. When he wasn't reliving that, he got to see Albus Dumbledore again and the man's face frozen as he fell off of the Astronomy tower.

Draco subconsciously rubbed his dark mark, wishing that he had never been branded like cattle.

Draco's nights were filled with screams and fitful sleeping. He just wanted to sleep well for once. But he believed that he would need dreamless sleep drought for that.

Draco was still in his Askaban robes and he desperately wanted a change of clothes.

Wand held out in front of him, he moved up the stairs and to his bedroom.

Covered in Silver and Green, his king sized bed sat in the middle of the room. He had a canopy that hang over it. His fireplace was opposite of his bed and it sat cold and empty. With a quick flick of his wand, logs and fire filled the fireplace and a warm glow filled the room.

Walking over to his wardrobe, Draco opened it to reveal only black suits and black robes. There was no color except the silver and green ties. Armani, Gucci, Burberry stared back at him.

Draco swallowed and nearly cried. He didn't want to be bathed in black anymore. He wanted color in his life.

He ripped all of his suits off of the hangers and threw them all into a pile. He left his dress robes but tossed the black work robes into the pile. Then he went over to his chest of drawers and ripped everything out and tossed it into the pile.

He owned no muggle t-shirts, or jeans, or jumpers. Everything was designer pants and button up shirts that were all white or black. No greys, purples, blues. Black was all around.

Black. The color of the Dark Lord's eyes. Black. His aunt's hair. Black. His father's robes.

He was done with black.

Grabbing all of his clothes, he carried them out to the lawn where he unceremoniously deposited them in a pile and hissed " _Incendo_." He felt finally felt free.

His clothes burst into flames, and the black turned to red and orange. It took a full hour for his clothes to turn into a pile of ash. Draco watched with satisfaction, only to realize that he still had no clothes to change into.

Groaning, his transfigured his filthy robes into jeans and a jumper and then apparated to muggle London.

He ended up at Big Ben, one of the few places in muggle London that he knew. From there he proceeded to the nearest Tesco. He had heard muggle-borns ramble on about it.

Draco decided that he wanted all muggle clothes and normal wizarding robes. He'd get the robes later, he wasn't planning on leaving his house until it was clean and his mind wasn't jumbled.

He finally found the building with the giant Tesco sign and went in and grabbed a cart. He headed straight for the sign that said clothes. He grabbed t shirts and regular jeans. If they weren't his size, then he would just magick them to the right size.

Long shirts, khaki trousers, undershirts, cotton boxers and the white tshirts that came in bags. He got white tube socks, black socks, and whatever holiday socks the muggles were currently celebrating.

He walked past the suits and ties, and while he wanted to be semi normal, he wouldn't sink that low. He still had more class than that. He liked his suits tailored thank you very much, but he would deal with that later.

As he was making his way to the check out, his cart bumped into another, and the person had a familiar face. A brown frizzy haired witch with chocolate eyes. She was wearing a t-shirt and he could clearly see the word MUDBLOOD on her forearm.

"Hello Hermione," He said weakly with a forced smile and a pathetic wave.

"Draco?" She asked in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"Shopping obviously. I kinda sorta on purpose set all my clothes on fire in the middle of my backyard, and welp, I can't march about in Askaban robes for the rest of my life." He said with a nervous smile.

Hermione was speechless, and didn't know how to react. Here was the boy who tortured her for six years, now a man who himself was tortured. His usually handsome face was gaunt and his eyes had bags under them. His eyes looked empty. Hermione knew that he had seen horrors and had also suffered through the war.

"Look Hermione," he started, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. From calling you the M word, to wishing that the Basilisk would kill you. And I'm so sorry that words cannot express, that I stood by while my aunt tortured you. I am so sorry. And if you never forgive me, that's okay." His voice got softer with every word and tears brimmed his steel grey eyes, threatening to fall.

Hermione was again at a loss for words. She did the only thing that came to mind. She wrapped her arms around Draco, pulling the broken man into a tight hug. Draco quickly wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in the crook of her neck sobbing.

Muggles gave curious stares towards the pair. Hermione stroked his hair letting him sob.

After a few moments, Draco pulled away, his eyes shining with tears.

"Come on, let's get you checked out and then get you home." Hermione said softly.

Draco nodded and let her lead him to the cash registers. Hermione went first, paying for her lightbulbs. Draco leaned in close, "What are those things?" He asked softly.

"These are lightbulbs. They're used in lamps to create light in one's home. I'll show you sometime."

Once she finished paying, she helped Draco put all of his clothes on the conveyor belt and glared at the inquisitive cashier who was trying to pry into Draco's life. Hermione gave her a glare that would rival Mrs. Weasley. Draco wasn't even paying attention.

Once Hermione helped him sort out the muggle money and all of his clothes bagged up, Hermione led him into an alley.

"Are you okay for a side along? I can't apparate inside your home unless the wards have been broken." She asked softly, her hand gently on his arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine for a side along. And the wards are so ancient that I bet they will never break. Grab a hold." He mumbled, holding out his arm.

Hermione grabbed his arm and wrapped her other arm around his waist. She didn't like how skinny he was and she wished he could take him to Molly to put some weight on him, yet Molly would object to the broken man who helped ruin her family.

With a loud pop, they disapperated. Muggles didn't see them but checked for a backfiring car before continuing on with their day.

With a loud pop, the appeared on the step of Malfoy Manor. As Hermione's hand reached for the doorknob, Draco grabbed her wrist.

"The chandelier and the sitting room isn't cleaned up. The Dark Lord forbade us from cleaning it up. It was to be a reminder of our failure to keep Potter." He whispered, terrified.

Hermione clutched her hand into a fist and then released as she squared her shoulders. She grabbed the door knob and opened the door in one swift motion. She muttered, "Better face it head on. There are more important things to focus on right now."

Hermione then laced her fingers with Draco's and led him into the foyer. Swallowing Hermione gripped his hand tightly as flashbacks from that fateful night came back. It had only been a few months since it happened, but the pain as a fresh as ever.

"You can leave now, I'm home and I'll manage." Draco whispered softly, almost pleading her to go. Obviously she wasn't ready to deal with the manor.

She had done more than enough for Draco, and he would be forever grateful. But she didn't need to face her darkest memories for him.

"No it's fine. Let's get you into the shower and get you situated. Show me to your room," she whispered. She felt that if she talked to loudly, then the screams and pain would come back. Draco dragged her though the house so quickly she couldn't see the sitting room.

Upstairs in his room, his transfiguration wore off and he was in his dull grey robes again. Hermione smiled softly at him. "Go take a shower Draco, I'll put away your clothes." Hermione stood on her toes and kissed his forehead.

Draco was speechless but wandered into the bathroom and stripped off his robes. He turned on the water and waited for it to get hot. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw a grey, hallowed face stared back at him. His usually white blonde hair was dirty, and he was skinnier than before.

The hot water started to fog up the bathroom mirror, so he stepped inside the shower and the water cascaded over him. Resting his arms on the shower tile, Draco tried to relax. But it was impossible, so he resigned himself to just washing his body and hair. He conjured a tooth brush and brushed his teeth while he was in the shower.

Finally feeling clean, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist and went out to his room. He had completely forgotten that Hermione was in his bedroom. When he heard a small gasp, he turned around a blushed.

"Oh, hello, forgot you were here. Ummm, are you really putting away my clothes by hand? You do remember that you're a witch right?"

"Shit, I forgot again. Problems of being raised a muggle." Hermione blushed.

"Well, give me those pajama bottoms there. I'm tired and looking forward to a warm and comfortable bed."

Hermione tossed him the pajama bottoms and some boxers. He disappeared back into the bathroom and came out a minute later rubbing his towel on his head to dry his hair.

"So do you need anything else?" Hermione whispered.

Draco climbed into bed and looked at her. He didn't want to ask but it slipped out. "Will you stay? I don't want to be alone right now." His eyes were pleading with her.

She gave a small smile, "Yes Draco. Um, can I borrow one of your t-shirts?"

He nodded.

"Look away please." She quickly stripped off her clothes except her underwear and pulled on his t-shirt. She turned and saw Draco staring at her with a small smirk. "You didn't look away did you?"

"I haven't seen a naked woman in months. Of course I looked. Plus, you ran around with Potter and Weasley for months. I expect that you aren't too terribly shy." Draco replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes and climbed into his bed. She wasn't close to him since it was so big. But he pulled her into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her very close.

"Sorry Granger. I couldn't help myself. You are fairly beautiful you know. I never told you but you are." He whispered into her ear.

Hermione smiled to herself and then looked down at the arm he had wrapped around her waist. She spotted his dark mark which stood out prominently against his pale skin.

"Do you regret being branded?" she asked softly, tracing the mark.

Draco buried his head into her hair and Hermione almost didn't hear him. "Yes, I regret every second I spent under his rule. You know, Dumbledore offered my mother and myself protection the night we killed him. I was going to take him up on it, but every death eater showed up before the words made it out of my mouth. I wish I had."

Hermione turned in his arms and faced him. She found him silently crying.

"Draco it's okay. I will help you redeem yourself. Everyone listens to me because I'm a crummy war hero." She whispered softly, kissing his forehead again.

He buried his head into her hair again and whispered "Thank you."

Burying her head into his chest, and Draco pulling her as close as he could, they soon fell asleep.

And for the first time in months, they had a peaceful, dreamless sleep. No nightmares of torture, or blood. Just blissful sleep.

And the black suits that haunted his childhood were no more, new clothes held the promise of a new life.


End file.
